


Dark Path

by DJKitsune



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, No beta/We die like men, Obsession, One-Sided Attraction, Rape/Non-con Elements, Top V/Bottom Nero, V is his own character, Vergil and V are separate characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:40:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28196325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DJKitsune/pseuds/DJKitsune
Summary: Nero continues to push V's buttons with his cocky behavior and arrogant attitude, unknowingly driving the summoner to the brink of violence.
Relationships: Nero/V (Devil May Cry)
Kudos: 26





	Dark Path

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written anything in... a couple years it looks like! Apologies for going AFK for so long. Rather than giving a mountain of excuses, I'm dusting my account off and writing something small to get warmed up as I get back to continuing my older fics.
> 
> V is separate from Vergil in this fic, and everyone is touring Hell together as one big weird family. Alternate universe, so quite a bit of non-canon storyline stuff.

It had started innocently enough. The boy had sparked his interest upon first meeting him; his arrogant, cocky demeanor immediately stirring his emotions. He was rude, mouthy, and most of all, easily aggravated. The little shit took almost every opportunity he could to argue and rile him up.

What he didn't expect, however, was just how much the kid could affect him.

Normally passive, calm, and quiet, V found himself beginning to lose his patience a bit more every time Nero snapped at him or belittled him. This mostly happened during battle when V couldn't quite keep up or took any amount of damage against foes many times his own size and strength. Nero regularly got into shouting matches with V's familiars, demanding they keep 'that slow-ass goth freak' out of his way.

This of course got under Griffon's feathers, and the demon bird would instantly defend his master with an equally sharp tongue.

This all served to give V some of the worst stress-induced headaches he'd ever experienced.

Luckily the bratty child's uncle would often step in and not so politely tell them both to shut the hell up, causing V to give Nero a wickedly smug smirk as the kid's cheeks went red with rage and he stormed off with his middle finger in the air at all of them. Dante could sometimes be crude and rough around the edges, but beneath his gruff exterior beat the heart of a kind and caring man who would risk anything to protect the innocent from the wicked creatures of the Underworld. He loved his nephew and his twin brother Vergil, and although he hadn't initially trusted V, he'd gradually come to appreciate his quiet, bookish mannerisms, and before long he'd welcomed him into his odd, unconventional little family.

Dante served as the head of the 'family', his brother Vergil often standing by in stoic silence while the two of them pored over attack strategies. Upon meeting him, V was shocked to learn that Vergil had somehow fathered Nero. The two couldn't have been more different if they'd tried. Trish and Lady served as Dante's sassy business assistants, lethal backup fighters, and occasionally offered motherly advice. Nico was the resident technician and sarcasm machine. V took an almost perverse pleasure in the dressing-downs she dished out to Nero when he was being a difficult little shit.

Then of course that brought him back full circle to the ducky-haired, aggressive, 20-year-old manchild with an eternal chip on his shoulder.

It wasn't that Nero was mean all the time. He showed concern whenever V got injured or needed a rest. He allowed the older man to lean heavily on him while he dragged him to safety, and he once tore a scrap from his admittedly already ratty t-shirt to tie around V's midsection when he'd sustained a particularly deep gash across his stomach from a demon he'd not quite been fast enough to counter. But he was also rather quick to temper, and he had little patience with anything he couldn't simply bulldoze through and destroy in an instant. It frustrated the entire group, and it especially frustrated V.

In fact, it frustrated him in a much more primal manner than he'd been expecting...

He'd been watching Nero ever since he first laid eyes on him. At first it was mere curiosity, a simple appreciation of his rough, punk-like appearance and his sarcastic attitude. He was so different from V, much like Dante and Vergil were polar opposites. Nero amused him quite a bit. When his flippant comments and rude gestures were directed at his equally flippant uncle, he would often break into a genuine smile. Their interactions were endlessly entertaining, though somewhat distracting when he was trying to read.

 _Distracting_ was a word that described Nero perfectly in relation to how he made V feel.

He wasn't sure exactly when it started, but it wasn't long after being criticized for what felt like the hundredth time by this man who was several years his junior that V truly began to get hot under the collar. Something other than pure embarrassment and frustration had managed to worm its way into his heart, something closer to passion and vengeance. He started entertaining thoughts and fantasies of putting Nero in his place, sometimes using only his wits and snide retorts, other times physically overpowering him and violently teaching him the lessons he so desperately wanted to dish out.

Currently, the younger man was seated across from him in Nico's van, polishing his weapons and being blessedly quiet for once. V watched him with interest, appreciating his short, fuzzy hair, baggy clothes, and those soft, pink lips of his, slightly curved into an impish little smile. Nero took great care when cleaning his sword, polishing it up to a beautiful shine after carefully sharpening it to a deadly edge. Nero was no slouch in battle, V knew this from experience. He had to admit that he moved quickly and gracefully, yet with the strength of a demon that cleaved multiple enemies in two amidst a shower of gore. In fact, V more often than not ended up breaking his kill streaks and getting injured due to being entranced by Nero's fighting dance. Which was why it was that much more infuriating when Nero chastised him and cursed bitterly at his clumsiness. If he only knew that he himself was the reason for much of it.

_"Easy V... You're gonna start drooling all over your book..."_

Griffon whispered knowingly into his ear, snapping him out of his reverie. He glanced over at the bird perched on his shoulder and gave him a smirk.

 _"Sorry my friend... My mind seems to be wandering again,"_ he whispered back, affectionately scratching his neck. He glanced back over at Nero, who was still cleaning his weapons and apparently not even aware of V and his familiars being in the same room.

_Arrogant little shit._

What would he do, V wondered, if he suddenly found himself pinned to the wall, V's cane pressed tightly across his pretty little neck, Griffon and Shadow restraining those powerful arms and legs. How humiliated would he be, the big bad devil hunter completely restrained and helpless under the power of a quiet poet with a bad back and legs, smiling sweetly down at him while quoting William Blake. V could only imaging the outrage, quickly followed by horror when Nero realized his father was out hunting with his uncle Dante, Trish and Lady were busy with their own missions, and Nico was scavenging a nearby junkyard for scraps, far from earshot of his pathetic screams for help.

How much would that strong body of his be reduced to a trembling mass, cold fear racing through his veins and making his head spin. Shock and terror wracking through every muscle as V gently shushed him, calmly unbuckling his belt and drawing his jeans down to pool around his ankles, hoisting his legs up and hooking them around his waist, slowly and meticulously preparing him with long, delicate fingers liberally coated in oil. V's familiars would hold him even tighter while he shook his head and screamed every dreadful curse he could think of at the poet, but it wouldn't matter. Help would never come for him. V would take his sweet time, pressing and scissoring inside of him, whispering condescending words into his ears, treating him like a weak, pathetic little thing. He'd trail his cold lips and tongue all over that deliciously bared throat while he slipped his fingers free, just before harshly forcing himself in to the hilt.

Nero wouldn't have a damn thing to say then. V would take him violently, thrusting into him at a frantic pace, digging his nails into his skin until he bled, rocking him hard against the wall, relishing in the other man's weakness. He wouldn't stop, wouldn't let up until every last ounce of strength finally drained from that powerful body, leaving him just as weak and sick as V often felt. Then Nero would finally understand. He'd finally know just how it felt when his harsh words cut V while he was fighting as hard as his weakened body would allow. Only then would V be merciful. His thrusts would slow to an agonizing pace, and his fingers would be gentle as they stroked across his abdominal muscles, circled his nipples, and cradled his back. Saccharine words breathed across his sensitive skin would only serve to humiliate him further. A sharp bite to the juncture of his neck and shoulder would draw blood and leave a mark that would remind him of his place. And most humiliating of all, Nero would come hard with a hoarse cry, his pleasure stolen from him courtesy of a tall, lanky goth bookworm who could rarely walk without a cane for support.

Yes, it would only be fitting that Nero's downfall would be at V's hands.

After V's familiars released him and he was lowered carefully to the floor, V would give Nero one final warning in regards to behaving himself and respecting him before sealing their lips together and pushing his tongue past his teeth, demanding entry. Nero wouldn't dare put up a fight, allowing the other man to lace their fingers together and press him to the floor. V would have his prize...

"Dude, are you alright?"

Blinking rapidly, V shook himself from his sick fantasies in time to see that Nero was looking at him with concern in those wild blue eyes of his. He quickly babbled a response as he tried to compose himself once more.

"Ah, yes... I apologize, I'm not feeling well at the moment."

He hoped to God that Nero, or anyone else for that matter, hadn't noticed the growing tent in his already tight pants. Luckily his book was still in his lap, though he was certain that his green eyes had gotten noticeably darker, and the heat crawling over his face likely gave him the appearance of coming down with a dreadful cold. At least, that would be his excuse should anyone ask about his current state.

Nero cocked an eyebrow at him and shook his head. "If you say so. If you're getting sick, Dante has some medicine around here somewhere," he motioned to the figures playing cards across the room behind him, "and Trish can make you some soup or something. She made some stuff for me when I got sick once and it was awesome!" He quickly blinked and corrected himself, "I mean the soup. It was some kind of chicken or something, but she puts all kinds of stuff in it like extra carrots and shit. It's really good."

V couldn't help the affectionate smirk that crossed his dark lips. Listening to Nero drone on like this, babbling idiotically about soup to hide his rarely seen soft side was incredibly endearing.

Maybe, just maybe, he could get through to the boy. He gave a sigh of relief as his dark fantasies were pushed back into the furthest corners of his mind, only to be dredged up when he was completely alone. For now, he merely basked in the awkward attention he was being given by his... friendly rival? His obsession?

No... His friend and companion, _Nero._

**Author's Note:**

> Just finished DMC5 awhile back and was wanting to write some VxNero. I've also got some more LucasxEthan in the works, as well as a weird AU StefanoxSebastian from Evil Within 2, though that one may be a ways off yet.


End file.
